Prisoners of Warr
by rightxhere
Summary: Four members of the FiveFive helped a woman the night before, but their constant bickering altered her mindset in more ways than either of them could ever prepare themselves for.


**Prisoners of Warr by Demelza**

**"If At First You Faint..."**

_Four members of the Five-Five helped a woman the night before, but their constant bickering altered her mindset in more ways than either of them could ever prepare themselves for. How will this quadruple of friends fare? Will they find a way to change what's been done, or will their lives be as the change has made them for the rest of their earthly time?_

There's just something about Mondays that pretty much holds all minds in that state of fear. You know the one, the one where you just know that if you go into work, your week is gonna be the worst ever.

Right?

Okay, now here's the story:

It's a Monday; though, I knew you might've guessed that at this point already; well, this particular Monday, however, wasn't like every other Monday in past history. Today, the morning skies were filled with a dark ambience, the usually sky blue that was present was masked with frightening shades of gray, light and dark alike.

A mist settled high in the sky, that mist, too, was dark, leaving an uneasy feeling in the minds of many.

High above, and in the distant surrounding directions, everywhere but where the mind could handle, lightening struck and lit the sky with a cruel reminder the day had barely started to begin, let alone come to a sweet end.

But this is the part where all the fun begins, this is the part where you settle comfortably in your chair and breathe easily, knowing the best is yet to come. The unconventional love stories, the shattering of hearts, the car chase, but more importantly...the discovery of things best kept, well...you'll soon see.

Enjoy!

Fred Yokas, bald bastard, walked with a frown on his face as he made his way along the corridor from the bathroom, through into the living room, then directly into his and Faith's bedroom.

Something had him pissed off, perhaps it was the fact he was bald...that was certainly a contending factor in the one of many possible reasons, but still, he walked to the bed where Faith lay asleep, her entire head covered by the bedding that she had wrapped around herself during the night.

He was angry, bitter.

"Faith...Faith..."

That was his attempt to wake her, but with a disgruntled sigh, he kneed the bed and she immediately stirred awake, but didn't remove the covers from her head as she let out a raspy groan.

Fred pulled a slight face of disgust, cold shivers going over him, when he let out a sigh. "Kids and I are leaving now, I'll be back around two to take you to that appointment downtown."

Faith, beautiful, strong..._hungry_...stared out from under the bedding. Yes, she was facing him, but her face was still covered. And with the way her tongue felt, all dry and sandpapery like, she knew her face would be something akin to disaster on all levels, so the more covers the better. "'kay..." she murmured, her voice rough.

There was a muffled groan from Fred, and Faith could hear his thundering footsteps as he left. The apartment door shut a few seconds later and she found herself sighing relief as she clutched the blankets ever closer to her.

This day was gonna be nothing more than hell in its every sense.

Carlos Nieto, total hunk with a damn hot smile, opened his eyes gingerly where he'd clearly fallen asleep the night before on the sofa. He didn't want to be awake, hell he didn't want to be alive. No, it wasn't a bid of suicide, but rather the knowing of the partying he, Alex, Faith and Bosco had done the night before that stung his temples that called for the strong desire.

Sure, it was a great night, but in all reality, drinking as much as they'd done was not good for the mind. Or the body. Though, he had to admit, in the dim lighting, several drinks-around fifteen-later, Alex had started to look like a total babe.

Not that she wasn't already, he had mused even the night before, as much so as now, but it was Alex...there was no liking the vixen. She was nothing more than a man eater, and he'd taken much enjoyment in telling her as such all the night through. _That being work as well as the party._

He sat up, wondering, could they really call it a party? It was just the four of them, and a so called excuse for an attempt at getting along.

Huh!

Like that were possible!

He totally hated Alex, Alex had this thing against Faith, Faith held this unreasonable amount of hatred towards Bosco, and Bosco...well he was simply a god upon himself, thinking Carlos, babe magnet that he was, was nothing more than an animal.

The bastard.

Bosco that was, not Carlos.

He smiled. Okay, so the night hadn't been a complete disaster, there'd been a lot of tongue waging going on...and no, it's not what first comes to mind...talking...nope, there'd been a lot of French kissing in the dark.

Hell, every fool knew that revenge was a dish best served French.

Rolling onto her back, Alexandra Taylor, hot fire fighting chick, stretched out with that little foot patter movement she did every morning when she awoke. She smiled, yawning, before rolling onto her side and looking at her bedroom window. Her smile faded just slightly, when she let out a soft sigh and smiled again. She could barely remember a thing from the drinking binge the night before. _The so called attempt at resolving their differences. _Her, Carlos, Bosco and Faith.

A bitter taste filled her mouth and Alex pulled a face as she replayed Faith's name in her mind. She didn't know what it was, but somewhere during the previous night there came a realization, and that was that Faith thought she was better than her.

Faith might've been a police officer, but Alex was a paramedic, and to her that was a far more important job than being a cop.

Cop's work meant risking-and sometimes-taking lives. Paramedic's work was doing the one thing each and every time. That being, saving lives. There were instances where no life could be saved, but at the most, there were more survival cases than not.

_But oh no,_ Faith refused to see that.

Alex pushed the covers off her as she swung her feet out to her left, only to realize she had fallen asleep on the right side of the bed the night before. Very unlike her. She cursed in her mind, but still managed to get over to the other side of the bed and then swung her legs over the edge. But, her feet hit the ground too soon.

A thought occurred, maybe the reason her climbing out of bed was so different from usual was the fact, perhaps, this wasn't her bedroom.

The mere thought that she'd spent the night with some stranger made her feel nauseous and she shuddered. Looking around, however, she came to realize the room was in fact her own. But her legs had grown a couple of inches. _That just wasn't possible._

Glancing down at her right leg, pajama leg up around her thigh, she creased her eyebrows as she stared at the tattoo just above her kneecap. It wasn't very big, in fact, all the tattoo was, were the numbers 1141 in some kind of fancy style.

Odd, a voice in her head said, and she turned to her right then, to the freestanding full body mirror that stood out from the wall at the foot end of her bed. Her eyes immediately grew wide, and then rolled into her head as she collapsed.

She didn't even feel the final impact as she fell to the floor.

Across town, Maurice Boscorelli, stud, sat at his kitchen table eating his breakfast cereal, when there was a knock on his apartment door. Muttering something really low under his breath, he rose to his feet and walked out toward the door where he released the latch and pulled it open.

"Mikey?" he questioned, brows furrowing.

Mikey stared at him, "Uh, I'm looking for Mo..."

Bosco pulled a face, "What the hell do you want?"

"Maurice Boscorelli..."

"Unless you're going blind, I'm standing right in front of you, asshole."

Mikey gave one of those, 'This guy is nucking futs' looks. Then, after a few seconds, he smiled, "Come on, where is he?"

"Just tell me what the hell you want Michael or get lost."

"You don't look..."

Bosco rolled his eyes and cut him off. "I drank a shit-load of booze last night, and I realize I look like shit, and I don't sound right from the drinking, but spit it out man!"

He sounded like his brother, words that was, but Mikey took two steps backward. "Uh, forget about it. Tell Mo I'll drop in later tonight. Creep."

Bosco stared after him, watching as his brother took off. "Idiot," he murmured, when he went to turn to go into his apartment, only to see old missus Henderson standing there, staring at him. "What?" he snapped. That startled her, and she turned and went back into her apartment.

Rolling his eyes, he turned and walked into his own apartment. Sudden urgency, he closed the door behind him before making the trek down the corridor to the bathroom, though a part of him wondered why everything looked like it had been lowered since the night before.

Putting it down to the killer headache he had, he shrugged it off and pushed open the ajar bathroom door. He crossed to the toilet and untied the drawstring of his trackpants, before then reaching into his boxers. But, doing that, his eyebrows creased deeply and he looked down. "What the..."

Carlos was still sitting on the sofa, bowl of popcorn and the remote from the television in his hand, when the door to Davis' room opened, and Davis walked out with some hot young woman. She couldn't have been any older than eighteen or nineteen, he thought.

Davis and the young woman's eyes immediately went to Carlos, and he could read their expressions. Shock. Bewilderment. Embarrassment?

"What?" he asked, his throat feeling disastrously croaky. He didn't know how well he'd be able to work the shift today if he continued to feel as badly as he did.

"What, what're you doing here?" Davis asked after a moment.

"Uh, watching T.V, what does it look like?" he asked back with sarcasm.

"Yeah, but...that's just...it's...why are you here?"

Carlos sighed. "What, suddenly a man can't watch T.V any more without being drilled for it?"

The young woman at Davis' side pulled a face and turned to Davis, "I'm outta here. See ya."

"I'll call you," Davis replied.

"How about you don't, and pretend like you did, but I refused to take the call?" the girl said, and that was it, she was leaving the apartment.

Silence.

Not that Carlos cared, but he shook his head, "Geez, what's her problem?"

"You."

"Pardon me?"

"Look at you, you're sitting there acting like you damnwell live here!"

Carlos' eyes opened wide and he rose to his feet, "Hey, I _do_ live here!"

"Since when!"

"Since I've been paying rent here the better part of three years, that's when!"

"Don't be full of crap Alex!"

Silence.

"Al...what?" Carlos replied, placing his hands on his hips, but that move alone stopped him and he looked down. Perfectly manicured nails on his fingers and toes, not to mention the feminine look of them...and the breasts. He had _breasts_.

"Oh shit!"

Faith stirred awake shortly after Fred had left, something in the back of her mind had kept her awake. Thing was, she knew she'd had little over three hours sleep the night before, so in a lot of sense, she wasn't hung-over she was still drunk. The stupid thing was, uh duh, aside from all the bitching that had gone on at the forced drink fest, she'd had a pretty good time.

Of course, half of what happened she couldn't remember, but in saying that, she was still able to vividly relive the French kiss Carlos had sprung on her. Sure, she wanted Bosco to be jealous, she wanted him to know she wasn't about to take a single day more of his chauvinistic crap and had gone for the next best thing.

That, in every essence, would've worked, if it weren't for the fact she'd gone for the next best thing, on a rank of where Fred was on the list of guys she wanted to...being fair though, she had to put them both at the same rank. Second. Carlos had a lot going for him that Fred didn't. He had spunk, he had fire, he had a bigger...head of hair.

She shook her head, not wanting to be there in the mind sense. Sex with Fred had grown freaky enough, thinking about the size of his Johnson wasn't something she wanted to think about. Not when nausea was starting to settle in. Then again, maybe it was the thought of it that made her feel this sick?

Whether it was or wasn't, she desperately needed to pee. So, pushing the blankets back, her vision blurry in patches, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes then climbed off the bed and walked through into the living room, before cutting through to the corridor and making her way down to the bathroom in a rush.

She was in the bathroom, the door behind her still open and she dropped her knickers before sitting on the toilet. Her vision was clear by this point, wiping her eyes had helped a lot, when she realized she was touching the toilet seat, but not in the usual manor.

Something wasn't right. _Something felt weird. _

And so, doing what any woman in the same situation might do, if one were put there, she looked down.

The next thing that came from her was the most loud, rough, and awful sounding scream of a man. Her head went light all of a sudden, and she collapsed right where she was, and fell off the toilet.


End file.
